My dispossessed soul opens to you like a jellyfish,
transparent, innocent, not knowing the toxins of itself.
It only feels warm and intimate in your staring eyes.
You love it in patheticly, don't you?
It is destined to belong to you;
ubiquitously, you, now, are the lovely water-green
swinging in the moving metro, a huge kettle,
while I'm a small drop of riders of you.
With just one glance, you know it all.
Inside me the water molecules echo your swinging, don’t they?
Suck it!
Too noisy isolation.
I am willing to dehydrate and wither in your arms,
and then, there would be a ball of bright silver
       promise to give you
       a low earth orbit spiritual spacecraft
       rising from your palms

       Trans. by Xuan Yuan and the author